Bare Nuckelavee

PRETENDING TO BE AN ELF AND OTHER INHUMANS

Played a game inside. The rules were scraped together from a fading memory of B/X and scratched onto the back of commissary receipts. The dice were made of folded paper and smuggled ink.

The setting was an endless, lightless oubliette because nobody had the energy to pretend about forests or sunshine. Still don't. Standard fantasy races didn't make sense to us. We needed things that felt right for the dark. My player ran a team of three characters, to give him a sporting chance against my monsters. They died frequently. Character generation was returned to often.

Here are the inhumans we used.

Elves

They do not die of old age, they just stretch out. Thin as wire, tall as a ceiling, skin like spoiled milk. They don’t sleep, which means they are always watching. They remember everything and forgive nothing. They resent humans for being allowed to die.

Dwarfs

Not born, but dug up. Compact blocks of muscle and spite. They don’t have blood, they have wet sand. They hoard metal because they think it’s their missing bones. Unforgiving, unyielding, completely devoid of humor.

Halflings

Feral, rat-things that live in the walls of the world. They aren't cute. They have two rows of teeth and eat whatever is dead. If there is a gap, they are in it. If there is a dropped crumb, they have taken it.

Goblins

Goblins are spontaneous generation. They coalesce from the damp, the rot, and the misery of the deep cells when no one is looking. Hairless, translucent skin stretched tight over fragile bird-bones. They have no eyes, just smooth, wet indentations. They click their needle-teeth to see the shape of the room. They hate everything that was born with a mother.